Bending Metal
by NapTime69
Summary: The armor goes on with metal bending, but how is she going to get it off?


"Arrghh!" Lin let out a strangled cry and swore under her breath, dropping the screwdriver she was using to try and pry her armor off to inspect the damage to her fingernails. She bent down and snatched the infernal tool off the bamboo mat of her room on Air Temple Island. She took a steadying breath and jammed the flattened tip back into the last unbroken hinge that held the battle-worn metal plates in place over her heart and lungs, wedging it deep inside the suit's ever-widening crevice; she wanted this process to be over.

Leaning into the scratched wooden handle, Lin poured all of her strength into the simple act of snapping the tiny metal clasp, but to no avail. Whether because the armor was too well made, the metal too well tempered, or because she had grown too accustomed to ripping through metal as though it was cardboard, the thought that she would have to find someone else who was strong enough to excavate her bruised and foreign body from the familiar housing that had seen her through countless arrests, shootouts, promotions, and more recently, full blown battles, began seeping into her consciousness like a fog.

The room began to spin and her newly weakened muscles gave out; her hands hit the floor hard. Resting her head on the tan flooring, she let the course threads of the mat dig into her forehead while the polished strips soothed her clammy skin.

She gritted her teeth against it but she knew there would be no stopping the scream that was building in her throat. Just as she thought she might burst from lack of air, she felt the last vestiges of control slip away from her and she let out a strangled cry.

She was tired. Tired from the long hours she always made herself work; tired from always sacrificing her own comfort for that of others; tired from constantly pushing her grief, her joy, her feelings of regret and failure to the back of her mind fighting to keep them there.

The sensation of crying was practically unknown to the former chief of police, but she gave in to the urge wholeheartedly, her body shaking with silent sobs as she clenched her fists against the now-cold and unfriendly ground.

The soft pat of tears hitting the hard fibers of the floor began to slow, eventually disappearing altogether until only Lin's shallow breaths were left to break the silence. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep, shuddering breath and pushed herself up off the floor to her knees, the last few metallic panels still hanging off her body clanking together as she settled back on her haunches.

When she could finally draw breath without feeling like she had just run a marathon, she wrenched her eyes open and lurched forward to begin her search for the screwdriver on her hands and knees. She fished it out from under the bed and, bracing herself on the mattress, pushed herself to her feet, her heart sinking a little further with the realization that this once easy task now required her full concentration to execute.

She sucked in a lungful of air, exhaled sharply and drove the point of the screwdriver into the hinge once again, this time feeling the metal catch and the rivets start to shift. She pushed harder, telling herself that she was going to get this thing off her if it killed her.

With a crack and a small tinkling noise, Lin felt the resistance disappear and the chest and back plates swing apart, now only connected on one side. Tossing the screwdriver aside, she ducked her head and shrugged the remains of her metalbending armor onto the floor. She reached out to run her hands over the smooth surface once again, but, thinking better of it, she snapped upright and turned to the small dresser that held her few civilian vestments; its not as if she would have felt anything anyways.

She tugged a black sweater over her head and headed for the door, but paused as she passed the small table next to it that held a sword with a black blade. She grabbed it off the surface and allowed herself a moment to grip the familiar hilt before letting it hang unceremoniously from her hand at her side. With another deep breath, she slammed the sliding door shut behind her, and slung the sword over her back as she marched down the hall.


End file.
